Life has a funny way of turning things around
by DeservingLife'sFlaws
Summary: Santana's life from start to finish, and that bit in between. Please give it a go. Rated M but won't come in till later. Was a three-shot but carrying on.
1. Chapter 1

**This is something I thought about randomly when I was in bed. I was planning a three shot but we'll see how it goes. I know it's long but please give it a chance and let me know what you think. I know nothing about the American school system but I've tried my best. Please read and review.**

_**Five**_

At the age of five you never really consider the possibility that there's more to life than you can see. The world exists for _you, _it revolves around _you. _There are no other countries, there are no other towns. The only people who exist are the ones you see when you go to school or shopping with your mom. I mean, imagine the possibility of millions of other people living miles and miles away, most of whom speak different languages, lead different lives. Even time is a factor that is hard to understand. What does time mean? How does time pass? What does it mean when people say that time can heal?

As a five year old I had no idea how my life would turn out. See, that's something that's not really thought about either. The idea that you will get older like mommy and you will get bigger like daddy. Sure, it's mentioned to you. _Oh Sannie, you're getting to be a big girl now! _But what does it actually mean? For me, at the age of five, my life revolved around what I was having for lunch and hoping desperately that the play-dough was out at school.

I guess, at that age, it's much too difficult for our small brains to even begin to rip apart the concept of age and time and heartbreak. Even when I was older some things were too hard for me to think about. But I guess my story starts at the tender age of five when I was starting kindergarten.

I was worried about it. I think all kids are although they don't understand what that emotion is or what it means. I had a funny tummy and when my mommy asked me what it felt like I could only shrug and give her my best puppy dog expression. It always melted her heart. She scooped me up into her arms and sat down on the couch, resting me comfortably on her knee.

"I know what it is," She said to me.

"What is it?" I asked her. My mom always knew what was wrong. And she always knew what to say to make it right.

"I think a little butterfly has flown into your tummy and is trying to get out," She said, tickling my tummy and making me laugh.

"Butterflies can't get into your tummy, mommy," I said, once she'd stopped tickling me.

"Not real butterflies," She smiled. "That's what it's called when we're a bit worried about something and it makes our tummies feel funny. Are you worried about school, baby?"

I nodded at her, once again startled that she knew what was wrong within minutes. She smiled at me, her hand resting on my tummy and used her free hand to tuck a stray strand of hair behind my ear.

"When I first started school I was worried too," She told me softly. "But when I got there I saw lots of fun things to do, like drawing and painting,"

My eyes widened. "I can paint?"

"Yeah, you can," My mom's eyes were shining as she spoke. "You can paint anything in the world,"

"Wow," I whispered. "When do I go to school?"

My mom laughed and I swear it was the most beautiful sound in the world. "Oh, honey," She said. "One day, you're going to make somebody the happiest person in the world, just like you make me,"

...

I was clutching my lunchbox like it was the only thing keeping me upright as we stood outside. My mom had hold of my other hand and she was talking to another mommy whilst we were waiting. I looked up at the building nervously. It was so big that I just knew I'd get lost and then what would happen? I swallowed and glanced back at my mom. The lady she was talking to had blonde hair and she was slightly taller than my mom. Her arm looked funny and when I followed it down, all the way to her hand, I could see that she had a little girl too.

The girl was staring at me, peering out from behind her mom's leg. She had blonde hair too and brown eyes. She smiled at me but I couldn't smile back. My mouth felt like it was glued shut and I could only look at her for a second longer before turning away.

When the door opened I squeezed my mom's hand even tighter. She knelt down to my level as the other mommies and daddies began to take their children inside.

"It's okay, baby," She promised me and I instantly believed her; it wasn't like I knew any different. "You're going to be great," She'd then kissed my forehead and stood up, taking my hand and leading me into the room.

It was huge. There were children and mommies and daddies everywhere but there were also the things my mommy had told me about; the painting and the drawing and the play dough I'd been hoping desperately for. The lady told us that she was our teacher and then she took us to see where we should put our coats and lunchboxes. I hung my coat up and put the lunchbox on the trolley quickly, my hands itching to get into the play dough.

"Honey, I'm going home now, okay?" My mom said, bending down again and kissing my cheek. "You have a good day, I love you,"

My eyes widened as I realised she was leaving me and there was nothing I could do to stop her. I started running towards her, pushing past all of the other children who were staring at me and the mommies and daddies who watched on with sympathy as I called her over and over again. She turned around; a worried expression on her face but all I said as she dropped to her knees and enveloped me in her embrace was 'I love you, too'.

...

I quickly found out that kindergarten wasn't all about playing. We had to do work too but I enjoyed it. I was learning new things every day and I was teaching my mom and dad new things too. I was even learning how to read and write, something I'd been subconsciously desperate to do since my dad started reading to me before I went to bed.

My mom, seeing how much I enjoyed reading, bought me some books and we'd look over them together when I got home from school. She'd let me try and sound out the words like I'd been taught and, even though I struggled, I was really enjoying it.

Despite all the learning and all the play, I was sad. Inside I didn't feel quite right and I didn't realise why until my mommy was called in to talk to my teacher one day. I was allowed to stay in the classroom with another lady who watched me as I rolled the play dough between my fingers and tried to make things out of it. Every time I caught her looking at me I'd scowl at her, making a small smile appear on her face that I didn't like. When my mommy came through I smiled and jumped up, running to hug her. She looked sad but when she saw me coming towards her she smiled too and lifted me into her arms.

"We'll see you tomorrow, Santana," My teacher said, smiling widely at me.

"Thank you," My mom said to her and together we made our way to the car.

As we were driving home I told her all about my day. I told her about how I went to the play dough straight away but then I had to go and sit down on the carpet. I told her about the new book I was allowed to bring home to practice and the piece of paper that had special words on that I had to learn. She never spoke the whole way through and when I asked her if she was listening to me she only nodded.

When we got home she helped me take my coat off and then took me into the kitchen. She lifted me up onto the counter and wrapped her arms around me, burying her face into my coat and squeezing. I didn't know that this hug had meaning at the time; I was just glad that my mom was holding me.

"Let's have a little talk, yeah?" She said quietly, leaning back and lifting me to the floor.

"What do you want to talk about?" I asked her, taking a seat at the table and swinging my legs back and forth.

"Who do you play with in school?" She asked me, resting her chin on her hand.

"I don't play with anyone," I told her and as I said it I realised how true it was. I didn't play with anybody. I watched the other children playing together but I knew that I didn't want to join in and be like that.

"Why not sweetheart?" She said sadly.

I shrugged and looked away. It didn't bother me the way it was bothering her. So what if I didn't play with anyone? I didn't want to anyway. There was one boy who smelt really bad, like daddy's socks. And some of the girls were mean.

"It's fun playing with other children," My mom said once I hadn't spoken for a long time. "You can play pretend and chase each other in the playground,"

"I don't like running," I replied.

A smile appeared on her face and she grabbed my hand, rubbing her thumb over my knuckles. I liked moments like these, when it was just me and her. They didn't last very long though. My dad appeared in the doorway and rolled his eyes at my mom who just looked sympathetically back at him.

"How is he?" She asked.

"He's still sat in the car," My dad answered, placing his keys on the table and running his hand through his hair. "He doesn't want to get out,"

Oh yeah. My brother. He's eight. I don't see much of him. He's always at school or in his room. I knew my mommy and daddy were worried about him but I didn't make much of it. They didn't tell me anything about him or the situation. I just knew he was sad. And that made me sad because I love my brother.

"Santana, baby, why don't you go to your room and play with your dollies?" My mom said, looking back at me and smiling.

"Okay, mommy," I told her, jumping down from my chair and running upstairs.

I loved my bedroom. It was filled with amazing things. I bent down and pulled a box out from underneath my bed, already delving into the world of imagination. Before long I heard someone running upstairs and knew it was my brother when the door slammed shut. Raised voices were coming through my floorboard so I crept out of my room and stood at the top of the stairs.

"He's your son, Antonio," I heard my mom say.

"What do you expect me to do about it?" My dad asked.

"He needs some love in his life, some care," My mom said. "He needs to know we're there for him,"

"I'm beyond this point! Do you think it's nice for me to watch my son slipping away and be unable to do anything?"

"This isn't about you. And besides, we can do something, we can talk to him",

I moved to stand outside my brother's room, not wanting to hear anymore, and hesitantly raised my hand to knock on the door. He didn't answer at first but eventually I heard him say 'come in' so I opened it and walked inside. The curtains were drawn which I didn't understand because it was daytime and he was sitting on his bed, his knees drawn up to his chest. A sad smile appeared on his face as I walked in and shut the door behind me.

"Hey, Sannie," He said softly.

"Hi, Daniel," I said, climbing up onto his bed.

He pulled me onto his knee and wrapped me up in a hug. I loved it when my brother hugged me. I didn't get one very often because I hardly saw him but when I did it was the most special thing in the world. It felt like we were hugging forever but eventually he moved us both so that we were lying down, face to face. He had tears on his face and I frowned, lifting a hand and placing it on his cheek.

"Why are you crying?" I asked him.

"Because I'm sad," He said quietly.

"Why are you sad?"

"It doesn't matter," He replied, taking my hand and squeezing it gently, offering me a watery smile.

I don't know how long we were lying there but it must have been forever. We fell asleep together that day and both of us slept through until the next morning.

...

I met Quinn Fabray right before Christmas. It was my last day of school before we had a 'holiday' as my mommy called it and we were allowed to play with whatever we wanted to all day. I had already painted a picture for Daniel, hoping he'd stick it up on his wall next to the picture that one of his friends had given him. Now I was playing with the play dough again. I liked how it felt on my hands and how I could move it and twist it and it would look different every time.

I noticed her staring at me from across the room and as soon as I looked up and our eyes met she smiled. I remembered the talk me and mommy had had and how she'd looked sad when I told her I had no friends so I smiled back at her and her face, if possible, lit up even more and she came over.

"Hi," She said. She had a nice voice. It wasn't too high or whiney like the others.

"Hi," I said, the first word I'd spoken to anyone other than my teacher in this school.

"What are you doing?" She asked me.

"I'm making people with the play dough," I told her.

"Wow, they're really good," She said, picking up one of my people and holding it delicately in her hands.

I reached out my hand quickly, intending to tell her off for picking them up but she was really gentle and didn't break a single one.

"I'm Quinn," She said, not even turning to look at me when she spoke.

"I'm Santana,"

...

I quickly realised that it was quite nice to have a friend. Quinn and I became so close that we saw each other every weekend, sometimes at her house and sometimes at mine. Her house was much bigger than ours. It had a million rooms but her bedroom was the best. That was where we spent a lot of our time. When we were at mine we spent our time in the garden in my tree house.

She told me she loved the tree house. I told her my daddy had built it for me. My mommy hadn't liked the tree house. She thought if I went up there alone I might hurt myself or fall out. My daddy had spent a lot of time building it so that it was safer for me. Now it was almost impossible to fall out and there were stairs to get up and down instead of a ladder. I didn't realise at the time that this tree house would be my sanctuary one day.

At school we were inseparable. We would sit together on the carpet, work in pairs together, eat lunch together, play together and then we'd come home together, only separating when one of us had to go home. My mom was happy that I had a friend and became even happier as the months went on when she saw how close we really were.

One day when we were sitting in our tree house Quinn started crying and I didn't know what to do. When my brother was crying I would cuddle him but could you do that when you were friends? I crawled over to her and hesitantly put my arm around her, hoping that it would help her in some way. She stopped crying soon enough I suppose.

"What's wrong?" I asked her.

"My guinea pig died," She told me, her eyes red.

"Why?"

At this age I guess we never grasp the concept of death either. How can it possibly be explained to someone so young? Even at the age I am now I find it hard to think about the fact that they're not there anymore.

"We woke up and he was gone," Quinn said, sniffing hard.

"What did you do with him?"

"We buried him in the back garden,"

I can remember pulling a face when she told me that but I didn't let her see it. It might hurt her feelings. Instead I stood up and made my way back to the house, Quinn following behind me. I pulled some glue, scissors, pencil crayons and two bits of wood down from the cupboard that my mommy kept some stuff in and sat down at the table.

"Let's make him something special," I said, handing her a piece of paper and telling her to draw whatever she wanted on it.

She didn't understand at first but then she started scribbling furiously with the pencil crayons. I stuck the stick into the glue pot like my mom had told me and glued the back of one piece of wood. Then I stuck the other piece of wood on it the other way around so it looked like a cross. Even then I knew it was wonky and didn't look much like one but it would do. When Quinn had finished I picked up the scissors and looked at them. I wasn't very good with scissors but I could at least try.

"What have you drawed?" I asked her, taking the paper and looking at it.

"That's me," Quinn said pointing at a blonde stick figure. "That's you and that's Fluffy,"

The guinea pig looked like a scribble but I didn't tell her that. Instead I laughed and she looked at me and laughed too. I cut my best around the stick figures and stuck them to the cross. Then I cut out Fluffy and stuck him down too. I held up the cross and we both looked at it before Quinn smiled and took it from me.

"Thank you, Sannie," She said, holding it close to her chest.

She still has that cross.

_**Eight**_

I picked up the ladybird and held it up to my eye. It had six black spots, three on each side. I passed it over to Quinn who squealed and kicked away from me, effectively making me drop it. I watched it crawl away and then turned to Quinn whose cheeks were flushed.

"It didn't look much like a ladybird," I said, laying back on the grass and folding my arms behind my head.

I felt Quinn lay down next to me. "What did you think it would like like?"

"I don't know," I said, shrugging. "Like a lady?"

Quinn snorted. "You're such a dork,"

"You're the dork," I shot back at her, removing one of my hands and poking her in the stomach.

"Hey, I was only telling the truth," Quinn said, rolling onto her stomach and glaring at me through her bangs.

I raised my eyebrows at her then cocked my head to the side, the sound of raised voices coming from the kitchen. I sat up slowly and looked back towards the house, seeing my mom and dad standing by the sink, shouting at each other. I sighed and looked back down at my hands, suddenly feeling an urge to get up and run.

"Do they do that a lot?" Quinn asked softly, scooting closer to me.

"Yeah," I told her.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah,"

...

"Sannie," Daniel said quietly. "You know I love you right?"

I nodded and turned back to the drawing I was doing. I loved drawing. It still fascinated me how, running this pencil over paper, would make a picture appear. Daniel's bedroom walls were covered in my drawings. He told me he was going to keep them with him forever.

"I love you too, Dan,"

A watery smile appeared on his face but he was quick to wipe the tears away. It had been three years since I was five and sat with him until he fell asleep. He still cries every day.

...

The zoo was so crowded I could barely see anything in front of me. Quinn clutched my hand like she was scared but I made sure to squeeze it every now and again in reassurance. My mom and Quinn's mom were paying for the tickets and my brother was stood behind us, his hood pulled over his head and his hands deep in his pockets. I craned my neck and spotted an elephant, his trunk waving around lazily in the air.

"Look at that, Dan!" I said excitedly, pointing towards the elephant.

"Wow," He said, bending down. "Did you know that elephants are the only mammal that can't jump?"

"Cool," I breathed, watching as the elephant used his trunk to 'hug' another one who had walked over. "I like elephants,"

"Me too," Quinn agreed.

"Shall we go and walk around then?" My mom asked, slipping her purse into her bag and smiling down at them all.

Quinn and I nodded excitedly but my brother only stood up and sighed. My mom looked sad as she glanced at him but she was quick to plaster a smile back on her face and move us along. We saw the gorillas next. They were big but not as big as the elephants. I watched as one gorilla sat up and started hitting his chest whilst making funny noises.

"Mommy, that one looks like daddy," I said, smiling and pointing.

My mom and Quinn's mom laughed and even my brother smiled a little. I was glad that I was the reason behind it. He ruffled my hair and told me I was right; it looked exactly like him.

...

My dad left the next day. Daniel and I stood at the top of the stairs, watching as daddy piled his stuff up by the door, my mom begging him not to go. He would only brush her off, however, and even shoved her hard away from him into the wall. They'd been arguing for a long time now. I couldn't really remember a day where there hadn't been shouting at bedtime. I had even heard the sound of glass breaking once. My brother had come into my room most nights when it started and curled up next to me beneath the sheets, singing lullabies to me to block them out. I hadn't ever thought my dad would leave us behind.

We watched as he opened the front door and forced his way out, bags and suitcases in his hands. I could hear my mom crying in the kitchen but I felt like I couldn't move; my feet felt frozen. When my dad came back for his last suitcase he didn't even look up. He didn't say goodbye. He didn't offer us any sort of acknowledgement at all.

"This is all my fault," My brother whispered as my dad slammed the front door. His face screwed up and he ran to his bedroom, slamming the door and leaving me to stand there alone, wondering what direction I was supposed to take next.

...

My mom cried for days. There were days when I wouldn't even see her because she was locked up in her room all the time. My poor brother, despite his own troubles and his own state, had to pick up the role our dad had left behind. He'd walk me to school and we'd have to leave extra early so I got there on time. He tried to lie and tell me that he got to his school on time but I knew he didn't. I was always the last one to be picked up because my brother had to walk back to get me but when the teacher asked where our mother was he was always quick to say that she was waiting in the car.

When we got home my brother would sit down and do my homework with me. I could tell he was exhausted but he went on as usual, as if he didn't have a choice. I don't suppose he did. He'd then do his own homework, help me wash my hair and then we'd both collapse onto his bed before nine o' clock.

Quinn still came over sometimes and I tried my hardest to make it look like everything was normal. She knew that my dad had gone but she had no idea about the state my mom was in. I could tell she knew though and eventually gave up the act because it was too tiring. My brother made us tea as much as he could but after a week it became clear that the food was running out. He sighed and stood up from the table, already looking older than an eleven year old should look. I watched as he began to walk upstairs, knocking on my mom's door and letting himself in.

"What do you think he's doing?" Quinn whispered.

"I don't know," I answered honestly.

After what felt like forever my brother emerged. I stood up, wondering what he'd done, when my mom stepped out behind him, looking worse than I'd ever seen her. She came down the stairs like a robot would, all stiff and funny. When she saw me though her eyes changed. They were no longer empty and lifeless. They were bright.

"Santana, baby," She whispered.

"Yeah, she's here too," Daniel muttered, making his way into the kitchen and throwing himself into a chair.

My mom looked embarrassed when she saw Quinn sitting quietly in the corner but she only smiled and ran a hand through her hair. I saw her fiddling with her hands and I wasn't sure what to do. She used to say _'all the hugs in the world can make a person feel good again'. _So I walked up to her slowly and wrapped my arms around her. She seemed frozen at first but then she hugged me back, tears streaming down her cheeks.

...

My brother didn't speak to me for a long time after that. I guess he was upset that I was prepared to forgive mom, even though I didn't really understand what that meant. At the time I was just glad to see her. But even now I regret not telling my brother how grateful I was. I don't think anyone told him.

**Please let me know what you thought. I know it was long but please review. Let me know if I should keep going as planned. Thank you.**


	2. Chapter 2

_**Eleven**_

I started middle school when I was eleven. It was different and similar all at once but I didn't like it much. It was harder because we had to move to different classrooms for each lesson. In a way I like this though because it meant I wasn't stuck in some stupid classroom all day. Quinn and I were in most classes together where we were grouped depending on our ability. I think we were both pretty clever though so we didn't have a problem.

Daniel started high school at the same time as I started middle school. Now it had been six years since that night we fell asleep together but all the extra years had done had changed him into someone I no longer knew. He was cold and distant, speaking only when spoken to. He spent all his time in his room, only leaving to go to the bathroom or get himself something to eat. I missed him.

My mom had changed completely since my dad left (I still haven't heard anything from him). She'd started drinking when I was nine, desperate to escape I supposed yet I didn't know enough about drinking to confirm this. That time when I was eight and had hugged her when she finally appeared had changed her for a few months. But she seemed to have given up after that, drinking till all hours every night. Daniel didn't bother with her anymore and to be honest I didn't blame him.

I got home later than usual because Quinn had made me sign up for some stupid fitness club at school. I wasn't the fitness type usually but who knows? Maybe it would be fun. My mom was sprawled across the couch when I walked in, a bottle held precariously in her hand. I removed it and placed it on the table, holding my nose against the stench that was coming from her.

Daniel came in not much longer and glanced over at me as I pulled a blanket over her still body.

"I wouldn't bother," He told me, pulling a bottle of water out of the fridge. "She won't appreciate anything you do for her. Mostly because she won't remember,"

I looked down, entwining my hands and letting them go again. I didn't realise he was standing in front of me until his hand was on my shoulder.

"I appreciate it though," He told me, smiling slightly. "And I'll always remember you,"

I didn't understand his comment straight away. I suppose at that age you wouldn't look deeper. But maybe, if I had, I could have prevented what happened next.

...

My brother tried to kill himself that night. My mom later told me that it'd been a long time coming, perhaps since that time when I was five. But he had only been eight. Could he have been battling with himself for that long? What had made him decide it was time to end at that particular point?

It had been any other normal night. He'd come downstairs at six to make me some dinner before proceeding back upstairs. I'd worked on my homework, this time alone. I hate to think about what might have happened if I hadn't walked into his room to say goodnight. Most nights I didn't, but I guess, somewhere, his comment earlier had lodged itself and I felt a need to bring it up somehow.

He was lying on the floor when I walked in. I'd knelt down next to him and shook him, hoping to wake him and get him into bed in case he hurt himself. I didn't realise how significant that was until later. He obviously hadn't woken up and I'd panicked, doing everything I could to bring him back to me. Eventually I'd thought of an ambulance and had called them straight away. It wasn't until the police were talking to my hung-over mom who later tried to explain to me what had happened that I even thought about suicide.

I'd visited him every day in hospital. It was hard, having to get the bus on my own, but I was prepared to make the effort for him. He was even quieter and wouldn't speak to me at all. I'd thought it would be different; we'd always been fairly close. My mom only visited him twice. I guess that was when I realised what my brother had known all along. He was transferred to a psychiatric hospital after five days.

I visited him every month.

...

_**Fourteen**_

My brother came back home when I was twelve. He'd been in the hospital for a year but he'd been home for Christmas. He still saw a counsellor every month and he was on anti-depressants but I think the year in the hospital had changed him a bit; for the better. I was sat with him now, attempting to get through the math homework we'd assigned that day. He was sat with a full piece of paper, trying his best to help me understand.

I was now in high school and my brother, being seventeen, was there with me. I was a freshman and I guess that's not the best position to be in but how could it be any different? Quinn and I had recently signed up to be on the cheerleading squad and, although the rest of our 'friends' laughed at us and told us freshman never get chosen, we were pretty confident. We were also quite nervous. The cheerleading coach, Sue Sylvester wasn't exactly what you'd call nice. She walked around like she owned the place and I'd even seen her throw some kids into their lockers. I liked her attitude though. She didn't care what anyone thought of her.

Being on the cheerleading squad was important for Quinn and I. We knew that we'd gain instant popularity and we also knew that was important if we wanted to survive high school. I supposed that stupid fitness club we joined back in middle school would come in handy and silently thanked Quinn for signing us up in the first place.

But, despite settling well into high school and having my brother back, things at home were hard. My mom's drinking had turned into an addiction and now I could barely remember what it was like seeing her without a bottle. My brother and I looked after ourselves and each other, trying to block her out whenever she decided to make an appearance. In a desperate bid to make sure no-one at school found out and separated us by calling in social workers my brother got a job. He didn't get much but what he did get he spent on food and put the tiny bit we had left aside for the bills. I realised I hated my mother, the day my brother came back from his interview. He shouldn't be living the life he was living at seventeen. He was obviously exhausted, especially when he started working. He'd go to school till five o' clock, staying late on most days for football practice and then leave for work at six. When I got home from school I made sure to clean the house, throwing all the bottles my mom consumed into the bins around the back so my brother didn't have to see them when he came home.

All in all it was a hard way to live. And we were barely scraping by at all.

...

Quinn looked as worried as I felt as we sat in the changing rooms waiting for Coach Sylvester to call us, individually, for our tryout. I kept my head high, my back straight, as I attempted to scowl at the others around us who were much older and much more experienced. Quinn looked like she was trying not to pass out which surprised me because she'd never been this nervous before about anything.

"What's up with you?" I shot at her quietly.

"I'm nervous," She said, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Q, you're brilliant," I told her honestly, having watched her routine over and over.

"You think so?"

"I know so," I said, nudging her lightly and smiling.

"Quinn Fabray!" A voice shouted through to us and Quinn's face went, if possible, even whiter.

"Go on," I said, nudging her again. "Make me proud,"

She smiled gently at me before walking nervously through the doors into the gym, letting the door swing shut behind her. We couldn't hear anything from the other side of the doors unless Coach Sylvester was shouting so I took it as a good sign that nothing was heard as Quinn was auditioning. Everyone who went through didn't come back in so I had no idea how Quinn had done. After what seemed like forever my name was called. I stood up, head still high, and made my way through. Coach Sylvester was seated at a table, flanked by the two head cheerleaders. She had a clipboard in front of her and eyed me up as I stood where I was supposed to stand.

"Begin," She said.

I guess it didn't go too bad. I managed to get through my routine without doing anything wrong. I was out of breath at the end of it and probably bright red in the face but I was so desperate to be part of _them _that I ignored the ache in my body and stood upright, staring her straight down.

"You're in," She said, looking back at her clipboard and ticking something off. "Be at practice, four o' clock, Thursday,"

"Thank you so much," I said, smiling widely and turning around to make my way out.

Quinn was waiting for me in the corridor. She was chewing her bottom lip nervously but when I smiled widely at her she screamed and threw her arms around me. Somehow in the midst of our screaming hug I caught that she'd been accepted too.

...

I couldn't wait to get home that night and tell someone. I was so proud of myself and of Quinn for making the team and already the whole school knew about it. I guess I would find out what that meant tomorrow but for now I was determined to get home. My mom was walking through to the kitchen when I unlocked the front door and walked in. She glanced at me before turning to the fridge and taking a bottle out.

"Mom, guess what?" I said, placing my bag by the stairs and entering the kitchen. "I made the cheerleading squad,"

She turned around and eyed me in disgust before taking a swig of the bottle. "What the fuck is that supposed to mean? Why should I care?" She muttered before barging past me and making her way back upstairs.

Tears sprung to my eyes but I impatiently brushed them away. Crying was for weak people; she'd taught me that when I was ten. My hands were shaking at my sides and I knew the torrent was close to escaping but I wouldn't let them out. I couldn't let them out. I was stood battling with myself for at least seven minutes before my brother walked in. He instantly noticed my distress and was in front of me in seconds, placing his hands on my shoulders and looking at me worriedly.

"What's the matter? Are you okay?" He asked me.

"Yeah... just had some news," I said quietly, a single tear leaking out. I inwardly cursed myself. "Mom didn't care,"

My brother seemed to stiffen before grabbing my hand and leading me to the couch. He sat me down and pulled a tissue from his pocket, gently wiping away the tear that had betrayed me.

"What was your news?" He asked me.

"It's not even important," I muttered, looking away from him.

"Hey," He said, taking my chin gently in his hands and turning me to face him. "Anything you ever tell me is important. So tell me,"

"I made the cheerleading squad,"

"No way," He said, a huge smile breaking across his face. "Are you serious?"

I nodded, a smile spreading across my face like it was contagious, and squealed as he wrapped his arms around my waist and lifted me from the couch, crushing me against his chest and spinning around and around.

"I am so proud of you, Sannie," He whispered into my hair. "Well done,"

"Thank you," I said to him, holding him close, afraid that one wrong move would send him spinning away.

...

Our first practice was hell to say the least. Quinn and I stood helplessly at the back, desperate to keep up and show Coach that she was right in giving us the opportunity. But keeping up was harder than we'd imagined. The routine was fast and furious, not at all the 'easy' one we'd been told would happen our first time. She made us do the routine at least twenty times before telling 'You think this is hard? Try passing a kidney stone, that's hard!' and sending us to the showers.

We got back to our lockers, the other cheerleaders not paying much attention to us and chugged down half a bottle of water. Then we both sat down on the benches, breathing hard.

"Well," Quinn said and I just nodded. What more was there to say?

...

Practice got better and better as it went on. Quinn and I found that, once you got used to the intensive routines, it was pretty simple keeping up. We were still bottom of the pyramid but this didn't bother us just yet. We were lucky enough to even be on the team and never before had a freshman made the top of the pyramid anyway. By Christmas it was almost as if we'd been cheerleading our whole lives.

After practice, which usually finished around the same time as my brother's football, he'd pick me up and we'd make our way home but tonight he had an earlier shift so he couldn't meet me. He'd apologised over and over but told me that working more would get us more money. I'd hugged him, told him not to worry and then said I loved him, making sure he was looking right at me when I said it.

I started the walk home, my legs aching beyond belief, but I felt good. For the first time since I could remember I was enjoying school. Even my grades weren't terrible although that could have something to do with Coach Sue and her power over Principal Figgins. Of course this meant that something had to go and screw it up.

...

When I got home it was dark. This didn't surprise me. I unlocked the front door and switched on the light, a loud groan greeting my ears as I did. I rolled my eyes and slammed the door, earning another groan. It was days like this when I was annoyed with my mother. Yes, I hated her for what she was putting us through, my brother mostly who had taken on what she should be doing, but sometimes it was easy to forget she was even there.

"Turn the light off!" She yelled through to me.

"Turn it off yourself," I shouted back, throwing my bag down by the stairs and grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge.

"You are such an annoying kid," She spat at me, getting off of the couch and switching the light back off. "You know, your father never wanted you anyway,"

"What are you on about?"

"You were a mistake, have you not worked that out yet?" She said, taking a swig of beer before she continued. "When we realised I was pregnant he told me to get rid. But I stuck by you and look how that ended up,"

"You're lying," I said, quietly.

"Oh you think so?" She said, stepping closer to me; so close that I could smell the alcohol on her breath. "And as for your brother... don't even get me started. As damaged as the day is nigh,"

"Leave him alone," I said angrily. "He's worth ten of you,"

My mother scoffed, took another drink, then made her way back to the living room. I was breathing heavily, tears threatening to overspill but I would not let her get the better of me. Without a word I grabbed my keys and stormed out of the house, making sure to switch on the lights and slam the door on my way out.

...

I met Puck when I started high school. He'd joined the football team when Quinn and I had joined the cheerleaders, becoming a friend of my brother's. He must have been good at what he did because freshman didn't usually make the football team either. I'd met him when he came over to meet my brother who was going to go over some football strategies with him. Whilst my brother was sorting things out in his room Puck had stayed with me and we'd had a brief chat. From then on we'd been 'friends'. Or what you could call friends.

It was him I text now, using the phone my brother had given me to make sure that we always knew where the other one was. He accepted my request to come over and I turned up at his house ten minutes later. He smiled as I walked in and gestured to the couch. I sat down, trying my best not to nose around his living room but I couldn't help myself. Photos covered his living room, much like mine. He only lived with his mom who must have been out or asleep or something because usually she greeted me.

"Do you want a drink or something?" Puck asked, always ready to get drunk.

"Yeah, sure," I told him. I had had the odd drink here and there, especially at New Year when Puck had had a party but I hadn't really been drunk before.

As soon as he handed me the beer I chugged it down and asked for another one. He raised his eyebrows but gave me another anyway, drinking his own rather slowly for him.

"What's up?" He asked me.

"My mother's a cow," I spat at him.

"Man, you and your brother..." Puck said slowly. "You've both turned out pretty well from what I've heard,"

"Thanks... I guess," I said, frowning. "What have you heard?"

"Hey, don't worry, just from your brother," Puck said and I relaxed slightly. "He just said that you'd both had it hard,"

"Yeah, tell me about it," I muttered.

He raised his hand and cupped my chin gently. Before I knew what was happening his lips were on mine, my back hitting the cushions on his couch.

I lost my virginity that night.

...

Sex with Puck hadn't been anything special. I'd been expecting something romantic, someone special for my first time. Puck was a friend and everything but I had none of those feelings for him that you're supposed to have. Still, somehow it made me feel whole again. Puck had been a gentleman but it hadn't felt right. At least not how I expected it.

I had six missed calls from my brother. I went through each of the voicemails, already hating myself when hearing how worried he was. I text him quickly to let him know I was okay then began the walk back home. I hated making my brother worry. As if he hadn't had enough happen in his life.

I quietly unlocked the front door and stepped inside. My brother shot up from the couch as I walked in and enveloped me in his arms. I held on to him tightly, inhaling his smell and wishing more than anything that I could stay in this moment with him forever. But he drew back, sniffing my shoulder and frowning.

"Have you been drinking?" He asked me.

"I went to Puck's," I told him, looking away from the disappointment in his eyes.

"After everything we put up with?"

"I know, Dan," I said softly, taking his hand and squeezing it. "I'm really sorry,"

"You're better than this, San," He whispered, squeezing my hand back. "Please don't let it happen again,"

"I won't, I promise," I said, closing my eyes as he kissed my forehead.

"Do you want something to eat?"

"No, thanks, I'm good," I smiled at him.

"Are you sure?" His expression turned worried.

"Yeah, positive. I'm just going to bed,"

"I love you,"

"I love you too,"

...

Puck asked me out the next week. I accepted, purely because I didn't feel it meant anything. Going out with him once didn't mean that we were together or anything, right? I didn't even like him in the way you should like someone you were going out with. I guess that meant I was stringing him along but like I said it didn't mean anything...

I had realised something though. Quinn was occupying my thoughts more and more as the days went on. Whenever we hugged each other, when saying goodbye mostly, I felt tingles. I couldn't describe it even if I tried but she was making me feel things I'd never felt before. Did this mean I liked her? As in, _like _her? There was no way I could let the feelings I was having show. School would be a living nightmare and I'd probably lose Quinn forever. Better to have her as a friend than as nothing at all, right?

It was much harder than it sounded though; trying to tell myself that what I was feeling was nothing. My hands began sweating when I saw her and my stomach flipped over. I didn't understand. I'd been friends with her since I was five years old. How could that have turned into what it was? The only other option I had was to avoid her completely but I was pretty sure that losing her would break me. Mostly because she was my best friend and had been for nearly ten years.

I found myself looking in the mirror every morning and every night, telling myself that what I was feeling was nothing, that it wasn't there. Maybe if I did this enough I could convince myself that it was true.

What I didn't realise at the time was that someone else was about to come along and make the feelings I was having for Quinn seem like nothing with a single glance.

**Thank you to Guest for reviewing and thank you to the few people that favourited and followed too. I hope this chapter doesn't disappoint. Please read and review, really appreciate them.**


	3. Chapter 3

_**Seventeen**_

I met Brittany Pierce when I was fifteen and she started high school. She was a year younger than me (obviously) and it seemed that way with who she was too. Her view on the world was almost childlike. It was as if nothing could possibly dent the way she saw things. I guess that was what made me fall in love with her.

At fifteen I was head cheerleader (Sue had said Quinn and I were the best cheerleaders she'd ever had, being sure to mention that she never complimented anybody and never would again) along with Quinn who, despite some falling outs along the way, was still by my side. We now ran most practices with Sue of course who was hoping for us to win Nationals for the fourth time this year. I had to say I was pretty confident about our chances. We were easily the best squad to ever grace the earth. Due to being head cheerleader it was my job to sit with Sue and Quinn for tryouts. This was the first time I set sight on Brittany.

I was looking down at my nails, bored already. We'd only seen three people so far and I was losing patience. When Sue called her name I didn't move but I knew I'd have to eventually. When she walked in I was immediately drawn in, like literally no way of pulling out drawn in. She was... beautiful. I noticed her legs first, long and smooth looking. Most of them were covered up by the pants she was wearing but they were only three-quarter length so I could see something. She was thin but not so thin that Sue would immediately dismiss her. When I reached her face though I knew there was no turning back. I can't even begin to describe how beautiful she was/is. She was wearing this gorgeous smile that revealed her teeth and her eyes were wide with happiness and excitement. She had a bottle in water in her hands and was passing it back and forth between the two with nerves I presumed. When her eyes locked with mine I was momentarily stunned, only being drawn away when Sue told her she could begin.

It was obvious straight away that she was a dancer. Her body seemed to change when she moved, almost like it didn't need instructions at all. It was effortless. Her face changed too. She was so focused that it seemed that nothing else in the room was on show to her. I watched, mesmerised, as she moved from step to step, like she'd been doing it her whole life. When she stopped, probably as flushed as I was on my first tryout, she bowed a little, the smile still planted firmly on her face.

"Brittany, you're in," Sue said, putting a tick to her name almost immediately. "Practice is at four on Thursday,"

"Thank you so much," She squealed, jumping up and down on the spot.

A small smile passed my lips as I watched her and I instantly questioned myself. What the fuck was I smiling for? Sue dismissed her and she practically ran from the gym, still smiling widely.

"She was amazing," Quinn said, looking at me.

I nodded in agreement but still found myself looking towards the direction she'd just gone in. It wasn't until Quinn called my name again, a small smile on her lips, that I turned around and resumed my nail watching, secretly thinking about what I'd just witnessed.

Looking back at my first meeting with Brittany still makes me smile.

...

After that I saw her on a regular basis. It was my job, along with Quinn, to settle the new cheerleaders in and show them the routine. She was a keen learner, willing to try anything and she succeeded every time. Sometimes I even gave her extra stuff to do, one because she'd always learnt the routine before anyone else anyway, and two because I wanted to see her dance. It amazed me. It still does.

Brittany fast became a best friend of mine and Quinn's and settled into our small group well. We hung out at each other's houses pretty much every day, alternating between the three. Sometimes we'd go out, to restaurants, the cinema, bowling. Anywhere really that we fancied on the night. I quickly realised Brittany was like no-one I had ever met before. She was always happy for a start, showing up at school with a huge smile on her face every day. She made me smile properly, a smile I hadn't had for a long time. I had a feeling inside that I wasn't used to. I was happy. When I was with Brittany I was happy.

She viewed the world like a child, not truly understanding the implications of life itself and the kind of horrors that can fall upon someone. I remember when she saw Finn Hudgeson, new star quarterback of the football team, shove some kid into a locker. She'd turned to me and frowned, asking why he'd done it. I had looked at her bewildered and then linked our pinkies (something she liked to do), pulling us in the other direction. She was so cute when she frowned.

As the months went on I found myself falling for Brittany. I wasn't used to the smiling, the laughing. I wasn't used to coming home and feeling something other than sadness, anger and fear at what awaited me inside. Instead I found myself with a happiness I hadn't felt for years. It didn't take me long to figure out why.

...

When I realised I was in love with Brittany, at sixteen years of age, I made it my goal to pull myself out of it. I had managed with Quinn so I could manage with Brittany. But had I managed with Quinn? Or had the feelings for her gone because Brittany was in the picture? The more I thought about it the more likely it sounded but I couldn't let it happen. The feelings I had for Brittany were much more intense than the ones for Quinn. The ones with Quinn now felt like nothing compared to the ones for Brittany. But that made it ten times worse, ten times harder.

I found myself slowing slipping back into the black hole that had been consuming me since I was small. Without realising I was beginning to distance myself from Brittany _and _Quinn and by seventeen I had turned into someone I didn't recognise. I started going out with Puck shortly before my seventeenth birthday, hoping to force myself out of it by being with him but all I was thinking about was her. My every waking thought was her, my every dream was her. Everything was her.

I was furious with myself for letting this happen again. I can remember getting home one night and smashing my mirror up, appalled by the image I could see looking back at me. I was disgusting and what I was thinking and feeling was wrong. I told myself this every night, always driving myself to tears, so much so that sometimes I couldn't breathe and it was all I could to keep from being pulled under.

I think Brittany noticed the change first. She was observant and sensitive and caring and kind, everything I wasn't. She never asked though and for this I was grateful. I would have snapped or said something I'd regret. It wasn't until later in my life that I realised I could never get angry with Brittany. Nothing she did or said could anger me.

When Quinn noticed she was quick to pull me out on it. She asked me what the problem was but I just told her to back off and walked out. I was quickly learning that this was the best way to be. People only shit on you when you're nice. I'd learnt that the hard way at such a young age. My mother had made damn sure I turned out how I did.

My mother. Even the thought of her makes my stomach churn. She still drinks, all the time. She isn't so much a mother anymore. More someone who I have to put up living with. I rarely see her but it raised awkward questions from Brittany when she came over for the first time. I had made sure the house was tidy but my mom had stumbled in, unannounced and ruined the night as usual.

And Daniel, my wonderful brother, was now studying medicine at college. I had never been more proud of him. He'd gone through so much in his life but he'd graduated high school and gone to do what he loved; help people. I'd had an emotional night with him, the day before he left. He'd revealed to me that he was sexually abused when he was seven, nearly eight. The kids in school had bullied him relentlessly (nothing to do with the sexual abuse, he'd assured me). He hadn't gone into detail but the two combined had made him an incredibly depressed child and who could blame him? Finally learning the secrets behind my brother I had wrapped him in my arms and been the one to look after him for a change. When he'd gone the next morning, leaving me with one of his shirts, I had realised it all made sense. I loved my brother so much it hurt.

...

I sat now, staring at Brittany, who was sat across the table from me, eating the salad that Sue forced us to have for lunch. She ate carefully and slowly, not at all like me. When she looked up and smiled I quickly looked away, coughing which was the worst thing to do because it made it even more obvious that I'd been looking at her. She laughed and when I looked up her eyes were still trained on me.

"What do you want to do tonight?" I asked her, hoping to turn the attention away from what had just happened.

She shrugged. "I don't know, maybe we could just hang out at yours,"

I looked down when she said that. We hadn't been back to mine since Brittany came the first time. It wasn't like either of them didn't understand but they had tried to assure me that it didn't bother them in the slightest. They'd had pity in their eyes and I hate pity.

"Or we could go back to mine," Brittany suggested, pushing her plate away from her and placing her chin on her two entwined hands.

"Sure, sounds good," I nodded.

Without warning she reached her hand across the table and placed it over mine. I immediately froze, my heart pounding fast in my chest.

"I just want you to know that your house is lovely," She told me, no hint of a lie in her eyes. Then she removed her hand, picked up her tray and left the cafeteria, leaving me with the feel of her hand still on mine.

...

Puck rolled off of me and picked up his trousers from the floor, pulling them on and taking a swig from the beer bottle on the table. I sat up and pulled the sheets around my body, not really sure why I was hiding now since Puck had seen everything before anyway. Having sex with Puck used to be for fun, now it was just to convince myself that I wasn't... However, now that Brittany was in the picture sex with Puck literally was nothing. And it was becoming harder and harder to convince myself that I felt something when I was with him.

"I've never made you cry before," Puck said, smirking as he looked at me. "Am I that good?"

"Fuck off, Puck," I spat at him, wiping my eyes on his sheets and climbing out of the bed.

I grabbed my clothes and started pulling them on, suddenly desperate to be out of his house. I snatched my keys up from the table, threw a 'bye' at him and practically ran from his house, throwing myself into my car and beginning to drive. It quickly became clear to me that I couldn't drive. The tears were blurring my vision so much that I literally couldn't see. I pulled over and let my head drop to the steering wheel, my body overcome with sobs.

It had been a long time since I'd allowed myself to cry but since I was alone it didn't seem to matter so much. The realisation that I was alone settled in and it only made me cry more. My own mother didn't want me, my father hadn't wanted me, my brother wasn't just around the corner anymore, Puck was just sex and Quinn and I had changed since high school. Sure, we were still close but it wasn't like we were sitting in each other's kitchens, drawing together at the kitchen table anymore.

People would say I was popular but that was nothing to do with my personality. I was popular because I was head cheerleader. People feared me because I strolled the corridors like I owned the place, much like I'd seen Sue do when I first met her. I made sure that people understood my place on the social ladder and their place. Rachel Berry, for one, knew where she stood. But she liked it.

I raised my head and wiped my tears away, taking deep breaths in and out. What the fuck was the matter with me?

"Santana?"

My head shot to the side. Brittany was stood outside, bending down slightly to look in through the window. I pushed the button to make the window come down but didn't switch the lights on in fear that she would see I'd been crying.

"Brittany, hey," I said, in a voice as normal as I could have hoped for.

"Are you okay?" She asked me, her brow furrowed in worry.

"Yeah, I'm fine," I told her, nodding to convince her further. "I thought I heard my phone ringing so I pulled over,"

I couldn't tell if she believed me or not but she nodded without further question.

"I was just walking home," She said, back to her happy self again.

"Where have you been?" I asked her.

"Oh I just walked to the shop," Brittany replied, holding up a carrier bag as if to prove herself. "My mom said it was the corner shop but it didn't look like a corner,"

I laughed slightly and looked down at my hands. How is it she made me so nervous?

"I better get going," I told her, gripping the steering wheel.

"Okay, I'll see you tomorrow," She said, smiling widely.

"You sure will,"

"Bye, San,"

"Bye, Britt,"

...

"I want you to join Glee Club,"

My head snapped up at Sue's words and my mouth dropped open in disbelief. Was she serious? Her face held no sign of a joke and even if it did Sue wasn't one to mess around. Quinn looked equally as horrified whilst Brittany didn't seem to be paying attention at all.

"What?" Quinn was the first one to break the silence.

"I want you to join Glee Club," Sue repeated. "If I have spies on the inside I can work to destroy Will Schuster and his wretched club,"

Quinn looked at me and raised her eyebrows. I still looked dumbstruck but there was no arguing with Sue. She dismissed the three of us from her office, demanding that we go straight to Will Schuster and audition for him or 'whatever it is he asks for'. Mr Schuster seemed surprised to see us. I don't really blame him. He was obviously suspicious. Quinn explained that her boyfriend, Finn, was in the club and she wanted to be supportive of him. I also had Puck as an excuse and Brittany just looked happy, as ever.

We auditioned for him and he seemed satisfied for he said we were in. Practice was on Tuesday at four. I was now in Glee Club.

...

On our first Glee Club meeting when we'd walked in everyone had looked shocked or displeased. Rachel Berry had immediately stood up, demanding to know the reason behind our sudden desire to join, whilst also shouting at Mr Schuster for letting us in the first place. Quinn had placed herself next to Finn, kissing him lightly on the lips before joining their hands and smirking at Berry who looked dumbstruck. Brittany and I went and sat next to Puck who looked pretty pleased with himself.

"Rachel, please," Mr Schuster said, gesturing for her to take her seat. "Quinn, Santana and Brittany gave an excellent audition and I truly believe they are here because they want to be,"

I saw Brittany shift uncomfortably in her seat but I kept my face on, hoping not to show the guilt that was coursing through me. They had nothing to worry about anyway. Nothing they had said or shown us so far would be of any use to Sue.

During practice we met Kurt Hummel; a boy who had the highest voice I'd ever heard and a dress sense that had to mean something, Mercedes Jones; a black girl who seemed slightly irritated by Berry and had a voice that could hit any note and carry on for a long time, Artie Abrams; a boy who was in a wheelchair and seemed to like making weird hand gestures when he or someone else was singing, Tina Cohen-Chang; a Korean girl who didn't annoy me as much as any of the others and Mike Chang; a boy who, I had a feeling, liked Tina and couldn't sing. I already knew Puck, Finn, Matt and Berry.

By the end of practice I felt weird but I didn't know why. Brittany linked our pinkies and we left, making me forget what the problem had been in the first place.

...

I was lying in bed when it happened. Flicking through the channels on my TV bored me because there was never anything on at this time of night. Puck had invited me to a party but I hadn't wanted to go. It was probably the first party I'd passed up on. I wasn't sure why. I wasn't feeling very well and I didn't fancy getting drunk when I felt slightly sick as it was. I told myself this over and over but deep down I knew it was more.

The knock on the door was soft at first but when I didn't answer it got louder. I didn't know who it would be, especially this late at night, but no-one else was going to answer it. I sighed and swung my legs over the bed, stretching and making my way to the front door. I opened it, prepared to give whoever it was a piece of my mind but when I saw who it was the words died on my lips.

Brittany was standing there. What I noticed first was that she was crying. Her eyes were red and puffy, tears still dripping down her pale cheeks. But then I looked closer and saw that her jacket was pulled down to her elbows, her shirt underneath ripped. Her shoulder was bleeding and there were bruises.

"Brittany..." I whispered.

She started sobbing when I said her name and threw herself onto me, her hands grasping at me as if she'd lose her footing if she had nothing to hold on to.

...

It took me a long time to calm her down. She had been sobbing uncontrollably for just under an hour. We were sat on my bed, my arms wrapped around her shaking frame, trying my best to be comforting, all the while wondering who had hurt her and wanting to rip their balls off. When she finally reduced her sobs to a soft sniffling I held her away from me and tried to join our eyes, raising my eyebrows in question.

"What happened?" I asked her, not wanting to know but needing to know.

"I... I... I went to the p... party,"

"You went to the party," I repeated, watching as she nodded. "Did someone hurt you?" I knew it was a stupid question but I needed to ask it.

She nodded, more tears leaking out of her eyes. She looked down at her hands and began scratch her wrists, gently at first but then harder; hard enough to draw blood. I grabbed her hands and held them tightly in mine.

"Don't do that," I told her gently. "You'll hurt yourself,"

On the outside I looked completely calm, rational, ready to do whatever it took to help her but inside I was fighting. I was fighting the urges to run to that party and find out who had hurt her. I was fighting the urges to beat them to within an inch on their life, ripping away what it was that had destroyed her.

"Do you know who it was?" I asked.

"N... No," Brittany whispered. "I didn't recognise him,"

"What did he do?" I asked, quieter this time.

Brittany shook her head back and forth, trying to pull her hands free from mine but I couldn't let her go; not when she was so determined to hurt herself.

"Did he... Did he touch you?" I could feel bile rising in my throat but I had to be strong for her.

Brittany immediately stopped shaking her head and turned to look at me. The pain in her eyes was unbearable. Overnight he'd turned her into someone unrecognisable. Gone was the bright, happy girl I'd seen only yesterday. He'd taken her, ripped her apart in the worst possible way. I gathered her back into my arms where she started sobbing again and planned my next move.

...

I sat her down on the closed toilet lid and locked the door behind us. When I knelt down in front of her, placing my hands on her knees, she looked down at me, nothing in her eyes except a dull sadness that I was determined to get rid of. I gently pulled her jacket down her arms and tossed it to the side so she wouldn't have to look at it.

"I'll clean you up a bit, yeah?" I said to her.

"San... I..."

"What, babe?" I stopped myself from standing up and instead waited patiently for her to speak.

"I'm sorry," She whispered.

"Hey, you have nothing to be sorry for," I told her, suddenly stern. I couldn't believe she was apologising to me. "Don't say you're sorry, none of this is your fault,"

I pulled the first aid kit down from the cupboard and knelt in front of her again. I dabbed gently at the cut, deciding that it wasn't deep enough to require stitches. I placed a strip of gauze over it and then added a bandage. I rubbed an ointment over the bruises but I wasn't sure what to do after that.

"You have soft hands," She said quietly.

"Thanks," I said, taking it as a compliment but hoping to distract her too. "I hear that from everyone,"

A small smile graced her lips but it was gone as quickly as it'd come.

"Britt, I think we should go to the hospital," I said slowly.

Her head shot up and she looked worried, as I knew she would.

"No, we can't, please don't make me," She begged.

I looked down and sighed. I didn't know what to do. She wouldn't want me to go any further but I didn't know enough about what had happened to immediately cancel out the hospital visit.

"He didn't... He didn't do what you think," She said, her cheeks flushed. "He just... touched,"

"So, he didn't...?"

Brittany shook her head and I hung mine, relieved beyond belief that he hadn't gone that far. I was still furious with him for touching her, for hurting her though. Regardless of how far he'd gone he'd still hurt her.

"Okay," I said.

"Could I have a bath?" She asked me, looking hopeful.

"Yeah, sure," I smiled at her and put the first aid kit away. Then I started to prepare the bath for her. "I'll be right outside, okay?"

She nodded, smiling gratefully at me. I left the room and sat down right outside the door, ready to be there for her if she needed me.

...

Brittany stayed with me for the entire weekend. She didn't want to go home, scared that her parents would look past the smile she was trying to perfect and work it out. I looked after her as best I could, trying to push away the feelings at the same time but it proved harder than it sounded. Having her so close, and for such a length of time too, was making the feelings stronger. But when I really thought about it I wouldn't have it any other way. I wanted her with me.

I found myself wondering why she'd come to me in the first place. She could have chosen Quinn, she could have gone home, she could have sorted herself out. There were plenty of other ways but instead she'd chosen to come to me. I couldn't work out why.

On Sunday night we were sat on my couch. Somehow her head had ended up on my shoulder. It felt nice, warm and comforting all at once. It was a while before I noticed she was shaking.

"Britt, are you cold?" I asked her, tilting my head slightly so that I could see her.

"A little bit," She admitted.

I felt behind the couch and pulled a blanket from it, draping it around her shoulders and tucking it in. She curled it tighter around herself and snuggled in more to me.

"Santana," She mumbled. "Thank you for looking after me,"

"I'll always look after you,"

...

I text Brittany later that night to make sure she was okay. She text me back saying she was in bed but she couldn't get to sleep. I frowned at my phone, wanting more than anything to be in her bed with her, holding her close to me and making sure she was safe. I decided to call her, hoping to ease her troubled mind by talking to her. (Really I was desperate to hear her voice).

"Hey," She said quietly.

"Hey," I said softly. "Are you okay?"

"I'm okay," She said honestly. (Brittany was always honest). "I just can't sleep,"

"When I couldn't sleep my brother used to sing to me," I told her.

"Can you sing to me?" Brittany asked. "You have a beautiful voice,"

A small smile crept across my face. She'd complimented me!

"What do you want me to sing?"

"Anything,"

"_And meet me there, with bundles of flowers,_

_We'll wade through the hours of cold_

_Winter, she'll howl at the walls,_

_Tearing down walls of time,_

_Shelter as we go..._

I had to admit, this song made me cry. But today it wasn't about me. It was about Brittany, and helping her to sleep. It was always about Brittany. How could I have let this happen? Twice now I'd found myself falling for another girl; another girl who was straight and obviously unwilling to even look twice at me. My heart twisted uncomfortably, my black, worn heart.

_And promise me this,_

_You'll wait for me only,_

_Scared of the lonely arms,_

_That surface, far below these birds,_

_And maybe, just maybe, I'll come home._

_Who am I, darling, to you?_

_Who am I,_

_To tell you stories of mine,_

_Who am I?_

_I come alone here,_

_I come alone here._

When I finished the song I could hear Brittany's even breathing on the other end. I closed my eyes and leant back against my pillows, letting her sound send me to sleep.

...

**I'm sorry it took me a while to update this. What with Christmas and everything it's been hard to find the time. I'm not too happy with this chapter. It definitely wasn't the direction I had planned but when I start writing I have this tendency to lose track. My fingers write for me rather than my head. I hope it wasn't as disappointing for you as it was for me. Also, this story was supposed to have finished by now but I'm nowhere near finished so I'll just keep posting until I've finished. Not sure how long it's going to be! The song was Promise by Ben Howard. Please read and review. I'm not getting much of a response for this story, not sure how to take that but thank you to those who are reading and reviewing. I really appreciate it. **


	4. Chapter 4

The days that followed were hard for both of us. I wanted nothing more than to practically kill whoever had hurt her whilst all Brittany wanted to do was forget. She couldn't forget though. I could tell she couldn't. She came into the school with bags under her eyes but that beautiful smile on nonetheless. She didn't tell anyone what had happened, not even Quinn, who I could see was getting suspicious of her behaviour.

I was at my locker with Quinn when Puck sped around the corner and nearly collided with me, completely out of breath and holding the stitch in his side. I raised my eyebrows at him and he muttered a single word. A word enough to have me running in the direction he'd come from as fast as I could.

"Brittany,"

I had no idea where she was and I knew Puck wouldn't follow in a hurry but I followed the corridor round until I found her, curled up against the lockers. Her knees were pulled up to her chest but she was staring straight ahead, her eyes filled with panic.

"Brittany," I called out as I hurtled around the corner.

As soon as she heard my voice she looked up, tears spilling from her eyes. She clambered to her feet and started running towards me, only slowing when she was close enough to throw herself at me completely. I wrapped my arms around her and tangled my fingers in her hair, holding her so tightly that she'd know I wasn't letting go. I glanced at Quinn who looked more worried than anybody but looked away again when she raised her eyebrows in question. At that point it didn't matter to me that everyone was staring at us like we were mad. All that mattered was her.

...

Quinn shepherded us into the girl's bathroom within minutes but I made sure not to let go of Brittany. She seemed to have calmed down slightly although her cheeks were red like she was embarrassed. I took the tissue Quinn handed to me and gently dabbed at the tears on her face, smiling at her when she looked at me and earning a small smile in response.

"What happened?" I asked her.

"I... I saw him," She told me.

When she spoke I felt my blood boiling. All I could see was this figure that resembled him, his black face and his black heart and I could see myself ripping him apart, limb from limb, until there was nothing left of him. My hands were shaking at my sides and it was only Brittany's voice that pulled me out of my mental musings to focus on what actually mattered here.

"I'm gonna kill him," I muttered.

"San, please," She said desperately. "Don't go after him,"

I turned around, pacing the bathroom as if I was coming up with a plan when really I was just fuming. Fuming because he'd had the nerve to come back, fuming because he was here, in this school right now, fuming because he'd dared to look her in the eye after what he'd done and fuming because he'd hurt her in the first place.

"What's going on?" Quinn asked. I'd forgotten she was there.

I looked up at Brittany who shook her head at me slightly. I looked down at my feet and closed my eyes, trying to focus on breathing which was harder than it seemed.

"Nothing, Quinn," I told her, sharper than I meant to.

"Well, there obviously is," She fired back at me.

"Back off," I spat at her.

She glared at me before looking at Brittany who wouldn't make eye contact. Without a single word to either of us she scoffed before leaving the bathroom. I rubbed a hand down my face, wondering what on earth I was supposed to do now. At the moment I felt capable of anything. I was even tempted to go through every boy in the school until I found out who had done it.

"Please don't do anything," Brittany begged me.

"He can't get away with it," I said, looking back at her and feeling my heart constrict when I saw the pain in her eyes.

"I just want to forget it all, San," She whispered.

"I know you do," I said softly, moving so that I was standing in front of her. "I know,"

I gathered her back into my arms and let her steady heart slow my breathing. I didn't know it then but already she was the only one for me.

...

It rang three times before he picked up. I smiled as his voice came down the line and I could tell he was smiling too when I told him it was me.

"How are you?" I asked him.

"I'm okay, just busy," Daniel replied. "You would not believe the workload,"

"I imagine it's quite a lot," I said laying back against my pillows and focusing only on his voice.

"You're telling me," He said, laughing slightly. It was so nice to hear him laugh. "How are you anyway?"

"I'm not too bad," I told him. "I was just... I wanted to talk to you about something,"

"Sure, go ahead," I heard him put down whatever it was he was doing and knew straight away that he was focusing only on our conversation. He always had time for me.

"I have this friend," I began. "She was sexually abused last week,"

It was silent on the other end of the phone. I had called him in the hope that he could help me to help Brittany. He'd been through it himself and I knew that it wasn't something that ever left you. But he was coping.

"I just... I don't know what to do," I said, my voice breaking. "The dick is at school and she sees him and it brings it all back and I don't even know who it is otherwise he wouldn't even be alive and..."

"Woah, slow down," He said. "It's okay, Sannie,"

As soon as he said the nickname reserved just for me the tears started falling and I angrily wiped them away. Crying was weak, why hadn't I learnt this yet? Daniel spoke to me for two and half hours even though I knew he had work to do and had to be up early in the morning. I wished my brother would come home.

...

Brittany came over to my house the following Saturday. Since she'd been over a couple of times before I felt a bit more comfortable about having her. We stayed in my room most of the time anyway and my mom kept to herself in her own room. I trusted Brittany though. I knew beyond a doubt that she wouldn't make fun of me and tell anyone else about the situation here.

She sat down on the end of my bed and took her shoes off before crossing her legs and smiling at me from across the room. I smiled back at her and closed the door. This way we wouldn't be disturbed. The relationship between Brittany and I was stronger than ever before. I'd finally realised I couldn't stay away from her, even if I tried, and being her best friend was better than nothing, right? As long as I didn't act on the feelings I had for her I would be fine. At least that's what I told myself.

"What do you want to do?" I asked her, sitting on the other side of the bed.

She shrugged half-heartedly.

"We could go to my tree house?" I suggested.

Her head shot up and her eyes were wide and bright; like they were when I first met her. Before he'd changed everything. I was glad to be the one that made it come back again.

"No way do you have a tree house!" She exclaimed.

"I sure do," I said, smiling. "My... my dad built it for me,"

"No way!" She said again, jumping off of the bed, grabbing my hand and forcing me to stand up. "Show me!"

I loved moments like these; when it was just me and her and we were both happy. I took the lead, taking her through the kitchen and out the back door. Our back garden wasn't very big but it was enough. Her eyes sparkled when we stepped outside and she saw the tree house. Her mouth dropped open like it was the most amazing thing she'd ever seen in her life. With the view she had of the world I guess it was.

We climbed up. I let her go first so that, if she fell, I would break her fall. She turned around to face me, a huge smile on her face, and I couldn't help but smile back as she sat down, still looking around.

"It's amazing," She breathed.

"I haven't been here much," I admitted.

"Why not?" She asked me as if she couldn't possibly understand the reason behind it.

I shrugged. "I don't know, just haven't really thought about it before,"

"It's beautiful," She said softly.

"You're beautiful,"

I had spoken without thinking, spoken in a moment when we were both vulnerable. My cheeks flamed and I cursed myself. I had really done it now. I'd revealed to her what I'd never told anyone. Was the comment enough to be passed off as something one friend would say to another? Would I be able to get away with it? My hands were shaking and I looked up, ready to say something that would eliminate what had just happened but when I did I found that she was directly in front of me. I hadn't even noticed she was there.

"You're beautiful too," She said softly.

My eyes kept flickering between hers and her lips and I was suddenly seized by an urge to kiss her. Something was poking at my mind though. She'd said I was beautiful too. She thought I was beautiful. She leant in closer and our eyes connected. They asked me the question and I nodded slightly, enough for her to notice. When our lips joined my breath hitched. I could feel fireworks in my stomach which was weird. I'd never felt anything like it before. My head was swimming.

She took my hand in hers and laced our fingers together, using her other hand to balance herself. I fisted my other hand in her hair, amazed at how soft it was and how easily it fell through my fingers. It was the most magical moment of my life.

...

I couldn't decide how I felt as I lay in bed later that night, thinking about nothing else but the kiss. On the one hand I was still in that moment, picturing over and over again how her lips had felt against mine and how she'd filled me with a feeling of safety and protection. I was beyond amazed that she'd kissed me anyway; probably able to have anyone she wanted. I hadn't considered for even a second that she'd be anything other than straight. But what did that kiss mean? Were we even together? Was I a lesbian? I sighed and rolled over. Of course I was. How could I be anything else? What with the feelings for Quinn and then the feelings for Brittany. Add the kiss to the mix and the way I felt incredibly protective over her and you had a clear answer.

On the other hand I was terrified. What did it mean? It was wrong. It had to be wrong. But what was so wrong about loving someone? Was it wrong because it was another girl? I guessed so. No-one at school could find out. If they did there was no going back. I didn't even want to think about what would happen if anyone found out. I'd have to talk to Brittany and see if we could keep it between us. I wasn't even ready to accept it myself, yet alone deal with the rest of the world.

...

When I woke up the next morning I decided that the kiss had probably been a one off. She'd most likely seen it as nothing, merely a kiss. It meant so much more to me but if that kiss was what made me lose her it wasn't worth thinking about. Yet I couldn't stop thinking about it. I sat, chewing dully on a piece of toast, picturing nothing but her eyes and how they'd looked when our lips had connected. I'd have to go and see her. I'd have to hear her tell me how it was face to face. At least then I'd know where I stood.

"You have that look on your face,"

I looked up and saw my mother standing in the doorway. She was staring at me so I frowned at her and stood up, wiping my hands on my jeans.

"What are you on about?"

"I had that look on my face when I met your father," She said, smirking. "And look how that turned out,"

"I haven't got time for idle chit chat," I told her, pushing past her and grabbing my phone from the table by the door.

"You're in love, aren't you?" She called after me.

My hand stilled on the door handle but I didn't turn around. Was it that obvious? I heard her walk up behind me, her mouth dangerously close to my ear and I was incredibly tempted to spin around and hit her.

"Don't be so stupid," I flung back at her.

"Who is the lucky boy then? That Mohawk guy?"

Up until now I hadn't even given Puck a thought. I would have to go and see him first to end it. I had no idea how he'd take it.

"I'm not in love with anybody," I lied. "Now I have to go,"

"You know I'm right, Santana," She shouted at my retreating back as I walked down the path.

I rolled my eyes and climbed into my car, already pissed off and it was barely eight thirty. I drove to Puck's house trying to plan something I could say to him but nothing was coming to me. I'd just have to tell him straight. Ha-ha, tell him straight. I pulled up outside his house and cut the engine. Taking a deep breath I got out of the car and walked up to his door, pounding hard.

He was the one to open the door, standing in just his trousers, his chest bare. He smiled when he saw it was me and extended his arm, inviting me in. I stepped inside and walked into his living room, already acting weird because normally we just went straight upstairs.

"How you doing?" He asked me.

"Puck, we can't be together anymore," I settled on just coming right out with it. I had nothing to lose.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean this, us," I gestured towards us both. "It's not working. It's not a normal relationship anyway, all we do is have sex,"

"Doesn't that constitute a relationship?" Puck looked confused and I rolled my eyes.

"No, sex does not constitute a relationship," I made my voice softer, trying to show him I wa sorry but he wasn't cut up about it at all.

"I was gonna dump you anyway," He said shrugging before looking at me and smiling.

"Sure you were," I said, smiling back. "Guess this worked out pretty well then,"

He nodded and we stood in an awkward silence for a while. Part of me loved Puck but he was more like a brother than a lover. Which sounds beyond weird seeing as though we've had sex so often.

"I'll see you later then," I told him, walking around him and opening the front door.

"You sure will," He said, following me out and watching as I got back into my car. "Hey, Santana!"

I rolled the window down and raised my eyebrows at him.

"We can still have sex, right?"

I closed my eyes in disbelief and rolled the window back up. He was still laughing as I pulled away.

...

I pulled up to Brittany's house and the smile slipped from my face. I hate to admit it but I was scared. When I'd realised I was having feelings for Brittany I had tried to ignore them and push them so far away that I wouldn't even have to think about them. But then I'd spent time with her, lots of time, and realised that she was as beautiful inside as she was outside. Then I'd tried to distance myself from her. It was best for both of us that way. I couldn't hurt her if she wasn't with me. But then that dick had hurt her and she'd turned up at my house in tears, needing me. It'd brought us closer to together again and then the kiss... The kiss. I put my head down on the steering wheel and closed my eyes. Does kissing someone mean you're with them? I realised as I thought it that it was a stupid question. Puck, for one, kissed everyone he could get his hands on. Of course it didn't mean that. But I knew, deep down, that with Brittany it was different. It wasn't just a meaningless kiss. To me it meant something.

I sighed and straightened up, opening the door and getting out of the car. I made my way to her front door slowly and hesitated before knocking hard three times. Her mom answered the door. She smiled widely at me, the same happiness in her eyes that existed in her daughter's.

"Santana, hi," She said.

"Hey, Mrs Pierce," I said, stepping in. "Is Brittany around?"

"Yeah, she's just upstairs," Mrs Pierce said, pointing. "Don't expect her to be dressed though,"

I laughed slightly and began to make my way upstairs. Brittany's room was as magical as her. It was the same kind of room I'd had when I was little. The wallpaper showed princesses defeating dragons and castles that she had told me held so many secrets. I knocked softly before poking my head inside and spotting her sitting on her bed, holding a stuffed bear.

"Hey," I said.

Her head shot up and a huge smile appeared on her face. She jumped up and pulled me inside, instantly pushing me back against the door and forcing her lips onto mine. It was just like our first one, if not better, but it was intoxicating and I couldn't think at all, couldn't process what on earth she was doing and why. When she pulled away her cheeks were flushed.

"I've been wanting to do that for ages," She said.

"You have?"

"Of course, haven't you?" She sat back down on her bed and patted the space next to her.

I nodded and sat down, twisting my hands in my lap, my head swimming so that I couldn't form a single coherent thought.

"Brittany," I said her name softly. "What does this mean?"

"I don't know," She replied honestly. "But I really like you, Santana. And I think it's in the way that people talk about because when I see you I get funny feelings in my tummy and I feel lightheaded and all I can think about is you even though I know it makes Lord Tubbington jealous,"

I laughed but when her words actually hit me I stopped in my tracks. Was she saying she liked me? As in, liked me liked me? It was too much all at once. I couldn't process it at all. I looked back at her and she was looking down at her fingers, her cheeks red.

"I feel like that too," I admitted.

Her smile was beautiful. It spread from the corners of her mouth to her ears, to her eyes, lighting her up in every possible way. She threw her arms around me and I buried my face into her hair, taking in her smell, savouring it and wishing that this moment would never end.

"I guess we've known it for a while, huh?" She whispered.

"I think we have,"

...

After that we just lay on her bed for hours. Sometimes we would talk, other times we would just be. I explained my feelings on what was happening and she didn't interrupt. I told her that I wasn't ready for people to know and she nodded like she understood. Then she kissed me again and took away those worries within seconds.

"We don't have to tell anyone," She told me gently. "Not until you're ready,"

"Thank you," I said to her but then I frowned. "What exactly is this?"

"Well, it can be whatever you want it to be," Brittany said shrugging.

"What do you want it to be?" I asked her.

"I want you to be my girlfriend,"

I couldn't believe how fast this was moving. We'd only kissed yesterday and now she was telling me that she wanted me to be her girlfriend. When I really thought about it though I had known I wanted her from the day I set eyes on her. And she'd practically told me the same thing. It had just taken us a little longer to accept it and make it happen.

"I want that too,"

...

I think we fell asleep at some point because I woke up, still lying next to her and the clock said it had just gone one o' clock in the afternoon. I shifted slightly, stretching my free arm above my head and yawning. How attractive.

"Are you awake?" She mumbled.

"I think so," I said.

A small laugh escaped her and she forced herself into a sitting position, stretching. I found myself thinking about a time in the future when I could get to wake up her every day. I wanted that. I wanted my future with her in it.

"I was thinking..." She told me, refusing to make eye contact.

"Hmm?"

"There is someone you should tell,"

My insides ran cold and I sat up, leaning my back against her headboard.

"There's no way in hell I'm telling my mother," I told her instantly. "She'd chuck me out or she'd call the police or something ridiculous like that,"

Brittany laughed and looked up at me. Even though I was in a state I smiled and shoved her slightly.

"She wouldn't call the police would she?"

"I would not put it past her," I said, believing even the worst things about my mother.

"I didn't mean your mom anyway," Brittany said, taking my hand. "I don't want to upset you, San, but I don't think she's noticed much of you anyway,"

Again she was right. My mom didn't notice anything of me unless she wanted something. She'd been right earlier though; when she said I was in love. Not that I'd ever admit that.

"I think you should tell your brother,"

I frowned and looked at her.

"He's supportive isn't he? And he's the only one in your family who's been there for you from the start," Brittany said truthfully. "He loves you, Santana. Anyone can see that,"

I sighed and threaded our fingers together. Telling my brother was the first step I supposed. My mother didn't have to know; she didn't care about me anyway. And it wasn't like my father was around anymore. I looked at her and her eyes locked with mine. They held such support and such kindness that I couldn't help but nod, becoming delighted to know I was the one that had brought her smile back.

...

I rang Puck as soon as I left Brittany's house. I had promised her that I'd call my brother when I got home but she had assured me that, if I couldn't tell him, she would completely understand. I still wasn't entirely sure if I was dreaming or not where Brittany was concerned. Within a day I'd had a kiss that actually meant something with the girl of my dreams and I had her as a girlfriend. And girlfriends protected each other right?

"Puck," I said, as soon as he answered the phone. "I need your help,"

...

"Hey, Sannie," Daniel said. "I wasn't expecting you to call back so soon,"

"Hey, Dan," I said, already smiling despite the fact that my heart was threatening to burst. "I can call you back another time if it's easier for you?"

"No, of course not, now's fine," He said. "How are you?"

"I'm okay," I told him when really I felt sick and wanted to curl up beneath my covers forever. "How are you?"

"I'm not too bad. How's that friend of yours doing?" He asked me.

"She's okay, still... you know,"

"Yeah..." He paused for a moment before saying, "I can sense this isn't just a social call,"

My mouth dropped open. I knew my brother and I were close but he could practically read my mind sometimes. I guess it was a nice thing. It used to make things a lot easier when we were younger.

"I... I have to tell you something," I told him. There was definitely no going back now. Unless I just made something up...

"Sure, go ahead," I could tell he was taking me seriously and I needed that. If he wasn't fully focused on our conversation then this wasn't going to go the way I'd planned.

"It's... It's something I think I've known for a while," I started. "But I haven't really thought about it, until now. And part of me doesn't even want to think about it now but something's happened to change everything,"

"Santana, babe, I think I know what you're gonna say," Daniel said, a hint of a smile in his tone.

I raised my eyebrows. "You do?"

"Yeah, and don't worry, I've known since you were about eleven,"

"How did you know and I didn't?" I asked him.

"Because it was obvious," He laughed. "But I think it's harder to see when it's you,"

"So, you don't hate me then?" I tugged my lower lip between my teeth.

"Of course I don't," He said, serious now. "Why on earth would it change anything? It doesn't matter to me what you are, as long as you're happy,"

"I love you so much," I said, a tear making its way down my cheek. Once again he'd reduced me to a weakness I couldn't present to anyone else.

"I love you too," He said. "Now I'm presuming you have a girlfriend or something?"

"How do you know so much?" I asked him in disbelief.

"It's a brother's intuition,"

I laughed. We spoke for another hour. I told him all about Brittany and what was going on with her. He asked me not to get myself into trouble and I told him I wouldn't; like it was that simple.

...

I was stood waiting for Brittany who appeared to be late out of her lesson. I glanced up at the clock but she wasn't too late. Just five minutes or so. I looked down the corridor, spotting Quinn whom I hadn't really spoken to since that time in the bathroom. She was stood with Finn and they seemed to be arguing. I smirked slightly; wonder what was wrong with the giant this time.

"Hey," I turned around to see Puck standing next to me.

"Hey," I said distractedly, looking over his shoulder to look down the other corridor.

"I found him,"

Those words had me snapping my eyes back to Puck whose serious expression was enough to tell me he wasn't joking.

"Who was it?" I asked him quickly.

"Look, Santana, you probably shouldn't do anything stupid when I tell you," He told me quietly. "You could get yourself hurt or something,"

"I don't give a fuck about that," I shot back at him. "I want nothing more than to kick his balls in. How did you find him anyway?"

"It doesn't matter how I found him, point is I did,"

"But are you sure it's him?"

Puck hesitated before nodding. I raised my eyebrows at him. He wasn't convincing at all.

"Let's just say he wasn't exactly ashamed of telling a friend," Puck muttered. "I don't know if he saw me and started bragging but either way..."

I could feel bile rising in my throat and my stomach was churning. The fact that he'd done it was bad enough but to brag about it with his friends? He'd be lucky to come out of this one alive.

"Who was it?"

"A boy named Leon Marcus," Puck said.

I knew him. He was in my Spanish class. I'd sat behind him only today. Suddenly I couldn't see anything. Puck and the corridor were disappearing from my vision. My blood was pounding in my ears. I pushed my way through the crowd and started running, glancing at every face I could until I found his. I could hear Puck calling my name but I wasn't going to stop. Not for anything.

"Santana!?"

Until I heard her voice. I came to a standstill in the corridor, freezing where I stood as she caught up with me. I shouldn't have stopped. I should have kept going. But I would stop whatever I was doing for her.

"What's wrong?" She asked.

I looked up into her beautiful eyes, filled with worry about me, and held back the tears that were threatening to overflow. There was nothing inside of me except hatred and a strong desire to kill someone but she was stood right here and what more could I do but look at her? I couldn't embrace her like I wanted to, not in front of everyone. I couldn't kiss away the pain in her eyes. I couldn't do anything. I was completely useless. I pushed past her and started walking to the boy's changing rooms. She followed me and stepped in front of me, stopping me again.

"Brittany, please move," I tried to move around her but she followed me. "Britt, please,"

"Where are you going?" She asked me.

"It doesn't matter, just move,"

"It does matter, tell me,"

"Brittany, move," I said again, firmer this time.

Suddenly her face dropped and her hands started tapping her thighs. She was white, her lower lip wobbling like she was trying not to cry.

"You know who it is, don't you?"

"Yes, now move," I sidestepped her again and walked past, almost making it to a jog before she appeared again.

"Santana, please, don't go after him," Brittany begged and I swear my heart stopped.

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, counting to ten in my head to ease the anger and the hurt I was feeling. I knew that Brittany was enough to stop me from doing anything but she was also the reason I was doing it in the first place.

"Brittany, you don't understand," I muttered, unable to stop myself from fidgeting, knowing that I had his name and wasn't able to move. "What if it was the other way around? Then what?"

"I wouldn't go after him if you didn't want me to," She said immediately. "And I wouldn't risk getting suspended or hurt either because then you'd be on your own here, with him,"

I opened my eyes and looked back at her. She looked desperate and it was all I could do not to fall into her arms and hold her as closely as I could. I once again found myself wondering what I should do. I was fighting the impulse to just run around her and keep going until I found him but I knew I'd feel beyond guilty that I'd betrayed her like that.

"I won't go after him," I forced out. She visibly relaxed. "But if I see him I don't know what'll happen,"

She looked down but nodded like she could understand that.

"Come to the choir room with me?" I asked her quietly.

"Sure," She smiled weakly.

I linked our pinkies and together we made our way to the choir room.

...

I sat her down and then sat down next to her, taking her hand in mine and squeezing it gently.

"I want to sing something for you," I said softly. "And I need you to listen,"

"Okay," Brittany said.

When the music started my heart was beating hard. But when I started singing I knew that this needed to happen. If I couldn't get my feelings out through punching someone then I'd sing to her instead.

W_hen it's black,_

_Take a little time to hold yourself,_

_Take a little time to feel around, before it's gone,_

_You won't let go but you still keep on falling down,_

_Remember how you've saved me now, from all of my wrong,_

_Yeah..._

_If there's love just feel it,_

_And if there's life we'll see it,_

_This is no time to be alone, alone, yeah, _

_I won't let you go,_

_Open up,_

_Open up your heart to me now,_

_Let it all come pouring out,_

_There's nothing I can't take,_

_If your sky is falling,_

_Just take my hand and hold it,_

_You don't have to be alone, alone, yeah,_

_I won't let you go._

When I closed the song we were both crying. I guess I had got my point across and the anger I had felt dissolved at the sight of her. She smiled through her tears and pulled me into a hug that no-one could misinterpret. I rubbed her back soothingly, once again burying my face into her hair.

"Thank you so much," She murmured against my shoulder. "I love you,"

My hand stilled on her back and a huge smile, one I can't remember ever wearing before, appeared on my face. My heart felt like it was going to burst and I could barely manage to force the words out myself.

"I love you too,"

**Thank you to the ones who reviewed the last chapter. They are so appreciated. I can't even thank you enough for them. I hope this chapter didn't disappoint. I'm not too sure how I feel about it but I hope it's okay. Please read and review. **


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